A Rose of a Different Color
by Lizzy127
Summary: An orphan girl travels to work at the Paris Opera house nearly 5 years after the infamous chandelier incident. She becomes worried as all sorts of strange events begin to occur... AUErikOC.
1. Prologue

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Prologue

It was a dark night and despite the fact that the smell of spring lingered in the air, a deep frost coated the ground. The flowers, which had just begun to appear days earlier, had disappeared back under the thin soil, their frail roots clinging to every bit of warmth attainable. Death haunted the crisp night air, and the flowers were not the only ones who felt its presence. A young girl dressed in traveling clothes sat huddled along side a winding dirt road, a flimsy carpetbag lying limply at her side. She was pale and shaking with cold, having long ago given up any hope of finding shelter. The French countryside stretched for miles in every direction, not a glimmer of light peeking out form its depths. Aside form the moon and stars that is, which shown brightly down upon the land from their perch in the clear night sky.

A soft moan of exhaustion, cold and fear excepted the fragile lips of the tiny figure. _I shall not make it, _she thought to herself, _I cannot make it._ Indeed, from the situation she was currently in, everything appeared utterly hopeless. The girl could feel herself drifting out of consciousness, the world slowly fading from around her. A strange sound, almost like bells, was playing in her ears and suddenly the girl felt herself being lifted from the frigid ground. _I must be floating off to heaven_, she thought...


	2. Awakened

**This is the 6th time I've tried to upload this chapter… and no matter what I do, people keep saying that there are strange numbers that appear in the text. I'm hoping they go away this time… and sorry for the confusion :o)**

**AN: Wow! Thanks SOOO much to Saber, smgirl, Fox of the Nova, and Chaos-Fyre-Elf31 for the lovely reviews :o) They mean so much to me! I also just wanted to say that the rest of the story will be in first person... I like writing that way much more!**

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Warmth._ I said the word to myself. I was truly warm for the first time I could remember. _I must be in heaven._ Slowly I opened my eyes, apprehensive of what I might see. The first thing that came into view was my tattered carpetbag lying limply at my feet. Blinking, I let my gaze travel my surroundings, searching for another familiar sight. _Maybe it was all a dream. _As I lay there examining the room, my senses gradually began to kick in. I soon realized that my body was wrapped in warm soft sheets and placed a top a feather mattress in a small room. The room, dimly lit by candles and a roaring fire, was quite cozy.

I had no idea where I was. Slowly, I tried to sit up, hoping for a better view. Yet my attempt was in vain as my head began to throb like never before. I collapsed back to my pillow, a soft moan passing over my lips.

I lay there helplessly, wondering what on earth to do. I tried to think, to remember what had happened to me, what I could remember. My headache, however, would not allow any of these thoughts to occur. Suddenly, I heard the soft sound of muffled footsteps approaching the door which lay opposite the room to me. As the footsteps stopped directly outside the door, I began to hear the hum of whispering voices. My muscles tense and my eyes never leaving the door, I waited for the unknown guest to enter. Slowly the door began to creak open, revealing two white haired and elderly human beings: a tall, skinny man and a short, round, little woman. I gazed at them, uncertain of what to do. The little woman then made eye contact with me, and smiling, she flew across the room to my bedside.

"My dear" She spoke softly, taking my right had and stroking it gently"I'm so happy to see that you're awake. I was- that is, my husband and I were so worried. You see, we found you lying on the side of the road on our way home from the neighbors last night, and we were certain you were gone."

The old woman smiled kindly down at me, washing away any worried or fears that my have existed. She quietly turned to her husband who was still standing in the doorframe.

"Darling, why don't you go and get the child some tea and soup"

Nodding, he left his position at the door, disappearing into the depths of the house. The woman turned back to me, using her other hand to gently brush back a piece of hair which had fallen over my eyes.

"Are you feeling all right my dear" She cooed.

"I-I have a bit of a headache, b-but I'm fine." I responded meekly.

"Well" she chuckled, sitting down on the edge of my bed"I'm hardly surprised! You have a fever you know. Headaches normally accompany those."

I nodded weakly, and noticed her expression suddenly becoming serious.

"If you don't mind me asking child, what were you doing out on a night like this"

"I" I began to speak in the same tone as before, worrying that I may have to go into the whole story, which I was certainly in no mood to do"I was actually in the middle of a journey to Paris. The cold came so suddenly that I didn't have time to find a place to stay the night."

"What's in Paris" She questioned softly.

"My new employer" I responded in a whisper.

"I see. But, why are you traveling by night and in the cold without a carriage"

"I'm an orphan" I began, my voice lowering as I spoke"I've lived in an orphanage all my life. When the orphans turn 18, they are sent away to different jobs across the country. Yesterday was my 18th birthday"

"And you were being sent away" she cut in.

I nodded closing my eyes and willing my headache to disappear. I could feel her gaze of pity coming to rest upon my face, the dirty face of an orphan, of a child no one wanted. I wished she would stop staring at me, yet her line of vision never strayed from my features until the return of her husband with the soup and tea.

"Here my dear" she said, taking the try of food from him and placing it on a stand next to my bed"Let me help you sit up so we can get some fluid into your system."

Her burly arms came around my petite shoulders and had no trouble pulling me into an upright position, so that I rested against the headboard of the bed. Slowly she fed me the soup, which I gladly consumed. It tasted like heaven and was so pleasant trickling down my throat into my stomach, warming my insides. I smiled gratefully at her when it was gone. She then handed me the mug of tea.

"Drink up my dear, this will help you get a good nights sleep."

I downed the drink quickly, the second I was finished wishing there was more then was given to me. However, as the last drop played on my tongue, I began to feel its affects, my eyelids growing heavier by the second. The woman took the cup from my hands, placing it on the nightstand. Then once more she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, lowering me into the plush blankets and pillows.

"Good night child" She whispered softly, tucking the blankets around me.

I barely heard her and her husband leaving the room with my dirty dishes, for I was drifting into a deep sleep which for once in my lifetime would last the whole night through.

As I slept, I had only one dream which I can still remember. _I stood in a large foyer, more marvelous and exquisite than any I had ever seen before. A grand staircase led upward in front of me, splitting half way in it's ascension_ _and traveling to two different sections of the hall. The gigantic endroit d'entrée was beautifully sculpted and painted with the greatest of care. And there I stood, overwhelmed and yet at the same time ready to begin my first day at work..._

**Please r/r…ALL suggestions are greatly appreciated. If you think this sucks, tell me! I won't be offended (well, maybe a little, but I'll deal ;o) ).**

**Also… sorry if I completely messed up the French! I can speak absolutely no French whatsoever, so I had to turn to a handy-dandy online translator ;o)**

**One more thing… sorry for the delay with getting to the Opera house (and Erik)… It will happen soon… I promise :o)**


	3. Discoveries

**AN: Thanks so much (once more) for the lovely reviews :o) I'm SOOO sorry about those strange numbers and crap in the last chapter. I have NO idea why they keep popping up (I've re-uploaded that chapter like, a million times, and they won't go away). Hopefully they won't appear with this chapter! I just realized that I forgot my disclaimer (oops!) so I'm putting it in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Phantom of the Opera (however, I do own my original stuff)… and please don't sue me! I'm just a 16 year old girl with NO money :o)**

CHAPTER 2 

I awoke the next morning feeling more refreshed and alive then I had felt in years. My headache was gone, and I could think perfectly clearly once more. I slipped from under the warm covers of my bed and crossed the length of the room to a window which was hidden by a pair of thick, course curtains. Slowly I drew them back to peek outside at the new day. The sun was blazing over head, and there was not a cloud in the sky. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the brightness, but when they did I was able to look out into the world. A small garden, which then lead to acres and acres of farmland, lay below me at my feet. To my left was a small hen house, and the rear of a plump woman was poking out of the door. To my right, a skinny man was tending to a clump of what appeared to be tomatoes. Roaming the garden freely, mostly prancing back and forth between the couple, was a very tiny, very furry dog. Smiling to myself, I turned from the window and crossed the room back to my carpetbag. Undoing the clasp, I stared into the half empty space. I only owned two dresses and a nightgown... that was all the orphanage provided. They were hand-me-downs as well, already falling apart when they were given to me. Sighing, as I always did when attempting to push something to the back of my mind, I slipped my nightgown over my head as I changed my clothes. _I must not think about that dreadful place anymore, _I told myself, _I'm though with life there... I need never to go back. _I pulled my dress on, and began shifting my bodice, irritated by it, as it was a bit too big for my frame. Having a previous owner, it had been build for someone larger then myself.

When I was finally completely dressed, I left the small room, finding myself at the end of a short hall which led to a steep staircase descending downward. I followed the path laid out before me, and I soon entered a tiny kitchen where the plump old woman was busy over a wood burning stove.

At the sound of my footsteps, she looked up and smiled, dropping whatever it was she had been doing, and walking to a table which lay between us.

"I'm so happy to see you up, my dear," she beamed, "won't you sit down? I have brunch nearly prepared."

Smiling back at her, I pulled out the rickety chair in front of me and sat at the old, wooden table. The woman, seeing I was settled, returned to her work over the stove.

"I trust you had a good sleep?" She asked, not looking up from her occupation.

"Quite," I replied happily, "I don't think I've slept so well in a long time."

"Wonderful," she said as she left her post at the stove, moving to a dusty old cupboard where she extracted three dishes and some utensils. She returned to the table where I sat and began to lay them out.

"Can I help in any way?" I asked, making to stand up.

"No, no my dear. Please just stay right where you are!"

She bustled back to the stove as I situated myself in the chair once more. We didn't speak for a few minutes, as she was intently cooking the meal before her. She finally looked up as her husband entered the kitchen. The man came to rest in the chair beside me, flashing a polite smile in my direction. The woman soon followed his lead, coming over to the table carrying a large bowl of scrambled eggs, a bowl of graded cheese, and yet another bowl of fresh vegetables.

"Please, eat up everyone," She spoke merrily as she placed the dished on the table and sat down herself.

I began to scoop the eggs onto my plate, a delicious aroma filling my nosed. I was just glancing up at my kind rescuers to show an appreciative smile, when a though struck me. I didn't know either of their names, and I felt horrible rude for not inquiring earlier. Here I was, sitting at their table, eating their food, having never been completely introduced to them.

"Pardon me," I spoke softly, a hint of embarrassment in my tone, "I feel quite strange. I'm afraid I know neither of your names. I would-"

"Oh my!" The woman spoke, a red flush coming to her cheeks, "How rude of us! Oh, dear please do forgive us for not introducing ourselves earlier. It's just been so stressful since you came... we were so worried... and, well, you know. My name is Beatrice and this is my husband Tom."

She gestured first to herself, and then her husband. I smiled and nodded.

"Well," I began, "It's lovely to meet you... even though I suppose we've already met. My name is Evelyn. And, please do not apologize! If anyone is at fault it is I."

"You are very kind, dear," Beatrice smiled, "And, your name... Irish?"

"Yes. That is perhaps the one thing I know about my past," I chuckled. Beatrice's eyes softened at my comment, yet she did say more on the subject.

"So, you are off to work in Paris?" she asked.

"Yes... and I'm quite excited! I've been longing to go there since I was a child."

"Well, it is a pretty city... in some parts," she responded, "May I ask where you shall be working?"

"I have been given a job at the Opera house," I began, my face brightening with excitement, "On the props crew. It shall be dreadfully exciting! I will get to meet the cast and-"

"The Paris Opera house, my dear?" Tom spoke, the first time I had ever heard him, with a hint of concern in his tone.

"The very one," I responded, knitting my brow in confusion.

"Child," this time it was Beatrice who spoke, she too with the same concern, "Have you not heard of all the terrible tales which come out from that place?"

I suddenly began to feel uneasy. I had not heard of any _bad _tales... only ones about marvelous shows which had taken place there. And, the chandelier story. Perhaps that was what they were referring to when they spoke of the bad stories. But, as everyone knew, it had been a freak accident. The chains were old and the inspectors had missed a rusty link that should have been replaced. I opened my mouth to speak.

"The only bad story I've heard is of the chandelier falling. But that was nearly five years ago, and it was nothing more then an accident!"

"An accident, huh?" Tom muttered.

"Thomas!" Beatrice spoke sternly, glaring at him for a moment, before softening her gaze and turning to me, "Child, the opera house holds many secrets. More then I'm afraid you understand. Strange things have been occurring there recently. There have been a couple of deaths. Though the papers say they were accidents, I find my opinions to differ. I don't mean to frighten you child, but you must be careful there. Why I wouldn't be surprised if you... well, I'm sure you'll be fine."

She smiled warmly, and returned to her meal. I, however, had suddenly lost my appetite. What was this talk of death? Had the people she'd spoken of been victims of a strange accident, or had foul play been involved? Her voice penetrated into my thoughts before I could give it anymore consideration.

"Evelyn, you'll be happy to know that the city is only 10 miles down the road from here. Tom actually needs to run into town today... we need some meat from the butchers, and I've run out of yarn... so he can take you the rest of the way in the cart.

That did brighten my mood, and I sighed pushing my previous thoughts to the back of my mind.

"You wouldn't mind giving me a lift, Sir?"

"Not one bit, young lady," He chuckled, as I beamed over at him.

My legs were absolutely killing me from walking... I had spent the previous three days doing so, and riding for the last part of my journey was going to be a treat.

Half an hour later, I found myself sitting next to Tom on an old ox cart waving over my shoulder to the kindhearted Beatrice. I felt a little twinge in my heart, wishing I could have stayed a little longer. Yet, I knew I was expected at the Opera house that night, and I absolutely couldn't afford to be late. As we traveled down the winding dirt road, I noticed more and more houses as the land became more populated. We soon entered neighborhoods of homes, tiny children playing in the streets, throwing balls and chasing each other around. We began to travel up a hill, and as we reached the crescent, Tom lightly grabbed my hand and spoke.

"Welcome to Paris, my dear!"

And sure enough, there it was, spread out before us. Cobble stone roads intwined with some of the largest buildings I had seen in my life. The beautiful Seine flowed through the center, as people bustled around the shops.

A few minutes later, I found myself apart of the crowed, as Tom and I trotted down the winding roads of people and shops. My ears began to throb with all the noises around me.

"Apples, one frank a dozen!"

"Come, come and get your pork!"

"Silk, the cheapest you'll find in all Paris!"

I was finally here. The place I had been waiting to go to since I was a child. I was so busy taking in all the sights, sounds and smells, that I hardly noticed when we had stopped.

Tom stepped out, retrieving my old bag from the back, along with a small brown parcel. He came to my side of the wagon, offering his had to me as I stepped down to the road.

"Here we are, mademoiselle. L'opéra populaire!"

I stared up at the large building that seemed to beckon to me. It was beautiful. A dream. I wanted so badly to run up the stairs and explore the depths of this marvelous piece of architecture. Yet, I composed myself, turning to Tom.

"Thank you ever so much!" I beamed up at him. He returned my smile.

"I'm sure you will enjoy yourself here," He said, handing me my bag, and then extending his other arm, offering me the brown parcel, "This is a tiny present from Beatrice."

"Thank you," I responded, giving him a small hug before receiving the gift, "Thank you not only for this, but for saving my life."

"You're quite welcome my dear," He responded, "Well, I must be on my way if I want to make it back before dark. Take care of yourself and remember that you're always welcome at our house."

"Thank you," I said softly as he climbed back onto the old cart. He flashed me one last smile, and with a crack of the whip, he was rolling off down the street, disappearing into the crowds of people. Slowly I turned to once more face the building. I was here, my new home. I began to walk up the stone steps that led to the door, ready for the next chapter of my life.

So, the next chappie is when we'll learn about the Opera house and all of it's secrets ;o)

_Please R/R!_

Oh, and lovelyreviewerperson… I may be turning to you in the future for french help :o)


	4. Those Yellow Eyes

AN: Thanks (again) for the LOVELY reviews :o) We've FINALLY made it to the Opera House! cheers The story will start getting more exciting from here on out!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Phantom of the Opera (sadly). I'm just a 16 year old having fun, so please don't sue!

**CHAPTER 3**

I slowly pushed open the heavy wooden doors, revealing a sight I had only seen in pictures and in my dreams. The grand staircase, the towering ceiling and the intricately sculpted pillars and walls. As I stepped into the hall, the faint sound of music drifted over my ears. _They must be rehearsing,_ I thought to myself. I slowly began to walk into the large building, my heals clicking lightly on the marble floor. I was unsure of where to go, but I guessed the best place to start off was the manager's office. _If only I knew where that was!_

I continued to walk through the hall, admiring the elegance that surrounded me on every side. _This is my new home, _I told my self, _How much nicer it is then my previous one! _ As I crossed the foyer, I continued to glance around in hopes of finding a person who could direct me in the direction I needed to go. Yet, not a soul was in sight.

I walked around for nearly five minutes more, still no one appearing. It was only then that I began to notice a cool draft wafting though the hall. A strange eeriness began to creep up around me. _Where is everyone?_ I asked myself, crossing my arms over my chest. The hairs on the back of my neck began had begun to prickle as if someone were watching me. With a swish of my cape, I spun around searching the open space. No one was there. Sighing, feeling rather foolish, I turned around and continued on my quest. I was now at the head of a long hallway lit by flickering gas lamps. With no better option, I decided to try my luck and began following the winding corridor. As I walked deeper into the Opera House, I couldn't help but notice how the eerie feeling kept growing stronger and stronger. Several times I swore I heard the light swish of a cape, but each time I turned around I found the hallway deserted.

I was soon quite lost in the labyrinth of passageways. Had I known the building was so huge, I wouldn't have attempted to find the managers on my own. The faint singing that had once graced my ears had now disappeared completely, and the gas lamps were becoming fewer and fewer.

Turning another corner, I stopped and completely froze. I had heard the swish of material once more extremely close behind me. This time however, a deep, slow breathing accompanied it. Rooted to the ground, I didn't dare turn around, not knowing what I would see. The deep breaths continued intune with my own shallow ones. Who was there, or better yet, _what_ was there. Knowing I had no other choice, I slowly began to turn around.

In a small, dark corner not ten feet off, two yellow eyes peered out from the darkness. My lungs completely collapsed, the air vanishing, as my eyes grew wide as saucers. My heart began to race as a strange dizziness engulfed me. I stared back at those haunting eyes for a few seconds, briefly hypnotised by them. They were so evil and cold, yet at the same time soaked in pain. They seemed dangerous yet inviting all at once. It took me a few seconds to realize what was going on, and when I finally did I turned and ran, tattered carpetbag in hand and as fast as my legs would carry me.

I had no idea where I was going, the same cold stone passageways extending in every direction. Speeding around a corner, I suddenly collided with something, being thrown to the floor. I looked up, afraid with my whole heart and soul that those eyes would be there. However, I was quite comforted to find a middle-aged woman, with dark hair tightly woven into a bun, standing in front of me. I wasn't even phased by the fact that she didn't look too pleased with being run into.

"I-I'm sorry," I said, scrambling to my feet, straightening my dress.

"Humph," She began, "It would do you good to watch where you're going."

Yet, the second we made eye contact and she had looked me over, those strict eyes of hers softened.

"Just where were you going in such a hurry?" She questioned, a mysterious tone in her voice.

"No where, really," I responded, not meeting her eyes.

The woman slowly walked over to me, reaching out a boney hand and tilting my face so that I was forced to look into hers.

"You're quite pale," she spoke in a soft yet intense voice, her eyes never leaving mine, "Why, you look like you've seen a ghost."

My eyes widened at that comment, and even though I didn't respond, she let go of my chin. A satisfied look of understanding passed over her own features and she smiled at me, speaking once more.

"I see your suitcase on the floor... have you come to work at the opera?"

"Yes...yes," I replied, extending my hand as I tried to calm down and introduced myself, "My name in Evelyn McPherson. I've been hired to help on the props crew."

"Ahh, yes!" She said brightening the mood, taking my hand in hers, "Madam Alda told me you would be arriving today. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Madam Giry."

"It's lovely to meet you as well," I was very glad to have at least one acquaintance under my belt, even if she was a great deal older than I. Dropping my hand, she spoke once more.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are doing down here?"

"Well," I chuckled bashfully, "I was actually looking for the managers office, and as you can see, I wasn't all too successful."

"Ahh yes. I'd be happy to personally show you there myself."

Kindly, she picked up my suitcase smiling at me while she beckoned me to follow her. We walked down hall after hall and up one staircase after another. I noticed that as we went on, there were more and more lamps lining the halls, creating a brighter and brighter glow. In no time at all, we were back in the entrance hall and standing in front of a door which I had not noticed on my initial inspection.

"Wait here," Madam Giry spoke softly as she disappeared behind the wooden door.

Less then a minute later, I found myself following her lead and entering the room which lay beyond the door. Along with Madame Giry, there were two middle aged, tired looking gentlemen. They gave me two weak smiles and introduced themselves as MM. Cordell and Pierre. They explained very vague details of my job, and said, very leadenly, how happy they were that I had come to work with them. Then, drawing a key out of a small draw, M. Pierre asked Madame Giry if she would kindly show me to my room.

We left quickly, me following Madame Giry back into the winding corridors. Not a word passed between us until we came to another door, which she unlocked and then opened.

"This is your room, where you shall be living while you're with us. Clean sheets, pillows and blankets will be brought to you later today. They'll undoubtedly bring you soaps and towels as well. If there's nothing else," She paused looking me over as she handed the key to me, "I'm afraid I have to leave you and return to rehearsal."

"Thank you for all you're help," I said smiling at her, "I shall be fine. I daresay I need some rest!"

"Yes," she said, smiling, "Oh, and Madam Alda shall check in with you later, after run though."

"Thank you," I replied as she began to leave my room. Yet, she paused in the doorway, turning back to me.

"And you are sure that you are all right... you seemed quite unnerved when you bumped into me."

I glanced up at her, my insides growing cold and numb as I remembered those eyes...

"Yes. It was really nothing serious! I was just worried about being lost! I didn't like the idea of being stuck down there alone!" I lied, something that was quite out of character for me. Throwing in a small laughing, I studied the woman before me. She seemed strongly unconvinced, though I wasn't about to tell her the truth. She would more then likely call me crazy and have me locked up in a home for the mentally unstable.

"Well, if you ever need anything," She began, looking me up and down, "_Anything_ at all, please do not hesitate to speak to me."

And with that, she flashed me one last smile and disappeared into the hall, closing the door behind her.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon tidying the room. It was in desperate need on a good dusting. I wiped off a tiny desk and chair, a chest of drawers and a small bed frame. I even washed the large mirror which covered a good portion of the wall on one side of my room.

When my new room had been cleaned to my satisfaction, I arranged my few possessions, placing them on my desk and bureau. I had a few trinkets which had once belonged to my mother, along with a book or two that had belonged to my father. When I was finished, I collapsed onto my lumpy, rickety bed, sighing and hoping for a few seconds of peace.

A few seconds of peace was all I got, for not a minute after lying down a soft knock came at my door. Groaning, I stood up and hurried across the room, knowing it was either Madam Alda or the servant with my sheets and blankets. I was greatly surprised, however, when I threw open the door to find a deserted hallway, void of anything except the dim light of the fading sun, shining through the dingy windows.

Telling myself that I had probably heard someone bumping around in the room next to mine, I turned around and was about to reenter my room when a soft fluttering noise caught my attention. I looked up just in time to see a creme colored paper falling through the air, coming to rest at my feet. Upon further inspection, I realized that it was not just a piece of paper, but an envelope. An envelope with a brilliant red skull imbedded in the dry sealing wax. For the second time that day, my breath escaped me and I began to feel dizzy once more.

Ok, so I hope this chapter didn't suck too much… see, I was a bit pressed for time when I wrote it AND I was EXSTREMLY sleepy :o( I really wanted to post something though, cuz' I haven't posted since Thursday. So, I promise the next chappie will be better!

**Please r/r :o)**


	5. The Opera House

**blushes Thanks for your kind reviews :o) You are all soooo nice! Also... I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update! It was just the end of the semester at school, so life was quite hectic... plus there's all the extracurricular stuff! sighs**

**Also, this chapter got a bit messed up, so I had to rewrite a few bits and pieces... I hope it turned out ok! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Phantom of the Opera (however, I do own my original stuff)… and please don't sue me! I'm just a 16 year old girl with NO money :o)**

**CHAPTER 4**

Fingering the red skull, I contemplated opening it. After all, who knew what could be concealed inside? I had heard stories of people being sent letters with toxins enclosed. And even if there was nothing poisonous in the envelope, the red skull was definitely not a good sign. I glanced around me once again, searching for someone, anyone. Yet, the hallway was still void of life.

My eyes coming to rest upon the envelope one more, I decided that to truly figure out was going on, I needed to open it. Slowly, I broke the wax and drew out a sheet of parchment. Upon it, written out in red ink, was the following:

_My Dear Mademoiselle,_

_Welcome to my Opera House! It is always such a treat for me, receiving newcomers. I am sure that my charming cast and crew will be most welcoming to you. They will give you extensive tours of my grand palace, perhaps even showing you places where it is best not to venture. I suggest you heed all of their warnings, as they have been here quite some time and are wise when it comes to matters like this. I know, my dear Evelyn, that if you cooperate and behave like a good girl, you and I shall get along marvelously. _

_Kindest Regards,_

_O.G._

"So," a soft voice drew me out of the letter, "You have been introduced."

A tall, thin woman was standing to the left of me. She was dressed in the most brilliant colors, from a deep crimson to a brilliant emerald, and had dark brown hair, which was twisted into a long braid, falling down her back. Her dark black eyes looked me up and down, coming to rest upon the parchment clutched in my trembling hand. She gave me a gentle smile, and closed the distance between us, putting a lean arm about me shoulder.

"Child," she spoke kindly, still gazing down at my letter, "Do not fear him. If you do not upset him, no harm shall come to you."

"B-but, who is he?" I asked in a tremulous voice.

Sighing she spoke once more, "_O.G._ stands for _Opera Ghost._ He haunts the house, bringing chaos, mayhem, and fear. Some swear that he is a ghost, while others claim he is a man, a man who has lived a tortured life in darkness."

"Have you seen him before?" I questioned, my fear suddenly turning to curiosity.

"Yes."

"And... do you believe him to be a ghost or... or a man?"

"There was nothing ghost like in his figure, but in everything else..." She broke off, pausing as if trying to remember something from the past. Her face became thoughtful, as if she were contemplating something. Suddenly, when it seemed she had made up her mind, a small frown graced her lips, but disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Well, my dear," The woman began, her friendly tone once more prominent in her voice, "I have forgotten my politeness. My name is Madam Alda, head of props here at the Opera Populare."

Removing her arm from around my shoulders, she extended a hand. I took it, introducing myself as well, a smile upon my face.

"Evelyn, Evelyn McPherson."

"It's a pleasure, my dear," She said, returning my smile, "I had thought perhaps we could take a small tour of the Opera so you could see where the props are kept?"

"That would be lovely! Are you wishing to go now?"

"Yes... if that is convenient with you?"

"Certainly!" I responded, "But... let me grab my cloak quickly. I'm afraid the corridors are a bit to chilly for my taste."

"Of course," She replied, as I disappeared back into my room.

Before fetching my cloak from the tiny closet, I slipped the letter safely into the top drawer of my bureau. I knew it would be safe there, away from prying eyes if anyone were to enter my room.

Upon returning to the hall, I found Madam waiting, and we set off on our small journey. I followed her through the winding passageways of stone and wood. There was nothing glamorous about back stage, yet at the same time it was clean enough. As we walked, a few people scurried around here and there, all of whom threw a friendly smile or waves at us. Overall however, there was hardly any life in the building on that late afternoon.

"Come here, dear," Madam whispered, suddenly stopping in her tracks and extending a finger, "I want you to walk over there."

Following her direction, hesitance in my step, I crossed the hall to a small, open door and entered. I suddenly found myself standing on the grand stage of the Opera House, looking out into the large, empty auditorium. I gaped at the elegance of it all, the sculpted angels, the painted ceiling, the red velvet chairs... it was exquisite. Currently, it was completely silent, aside from my shoes which were clicking lightly as I walked. As I gazed out upon the seats, I imagined them full of people, dressed in the finest gowns of satin and lace, decorated with the most expensive jewels, gloves and fans. I could see gentlemen in their crisp suits, black bow ties bound perfectly around their necks, their white gloved hands spotlessly clean. As I closed my eyes, I could hear their murmuring voices echoing through the room, as the orchestra began to buzz from the pit below, tuning their instruments. Music began to softly caress my ears as I heard a man begin to sing, his voice soft and hypnotic...

"My dear," Madam Alda spoke sharply, drawing me from my dream, "I hate to rush you, but there is a show tonight, and I was hoping to show you around before we began working."

I starred at her for a moment, unsure of what to think. Her face had suddenly become hard and cold, almost angry. I couldn't figure out what I had done to change her mood so quickly. However, I had hardly anytime to ponder as, turning on her heal, she led me back into the depths of the Opera House.

"Now Evelyn," she spoke, as we continued down the long hall, "You're aware that props are the things which the actors hold and use, correct? Contrary to public belief, pictures, flowers and such are part of set decoration."

"Yes, madam."

"Good. However, here at the Paris Opera House, our props team doubles as a decorating team, so you'll never have to be concerned with confusing the two. We're in charge of props, decoration, and we sometimes help with set design."

"That's quite exciting!" I said, enthusiasm in my tone.

"Yes," she chuckled, her mood growing lighter. I was quite grateful for this.

As we continued down the long hallway, I began to notice little side passageways which led off to the depths of the building. As I glanced down one particularly steep, dark stairway, I began to think back to the Opera Ghost. What was it going to be like for me, to live in a place where a man... a creature, lurked unseen by my eyes? What was it going to feel like knowing that I could be being watched at anytime, anywhere? And worse yet, how was it going to feel, to wake up every morning knowing that I am living in a place where there is someone who is not afraid to kill, and who would more then likely kill me if I got in his way? These thoughts troubled me until we reached the end of the long corridor, which was marked by a large wooden door.

"Beyond this door is the props room. Here is your copy of the key." After handing me a small, silver key, Madam Alda turned back turned back to unlock the door. It swung back without any hesitation, revealing a room which was pitch black, not a single speck of light peeking out from its depths. I shivered a little.

"The room is quite dark," Madam Alda said as if reading my thoughts. She stepped in a little way and spoke once more, "But there is always a candle and matches kept here," she pointed to a small table which lay just to the right of the door.

Striking a match, Madam lit up the room, or at least the part of it around us. Rows and rows of wooden shelf's extended as far back as I could see, each covered with an assortment of objects. I followed in Madam's footsteps as she began to explain the layout and organization.

"The shelves are arranged by item. For example, here is shelf four. This is where all of the handheld fans a kept."

We spent a good twenty minutes in there, looking around and picking out a few props, then we returned to the stage where preparation for the evenings show was already underway. As I helped set up, learning where everything went, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nerves rising inside me. Reflecting back now, I have never been able to figure out what _really _bothered me... whether it was the mysterious red skull note, or the worry that I would never be able to learn where everything was supposed to be on the stage, or perhaps it was the memory of those gleaming eyes I had seen in the dark passage way when I had first arrived. The uneasy feeling remained ever present during my first few weeks at the Opera Populare, however, it did fade a little when no new red skull letters came, when I finally made friends and learned how to organize the stage, and when those eyes never reappeared... at least not for awhile.

-

Please R/R!

ALSO... our dear phantom will make a grand entrance next chapter... and when I say grand, I mean _GRAND _;o)


	6. The Phantom of the Opera

**AN: Well, I've been stewing over this for quite sometime, and I just can't write it the way I want it to be. So, I'm giving up! I hope it's ok and doesn't disappoint too much!**

**CHAPTER 5**

Nearly one month has passed since my arrival at the Opera, and nothing too out of the ordinary had occurred. Of course there was the occasional ballerina who would start screaming fit in the middle of a run through, claiming she had seen the Phantom. Usually, however, it was only done to attract the attention of one of the handsome male actors, who would immediately come running to her side. Yet I never made fun of the girls for behaving in what I thought to be a silly way. They were my friends, as they were the only ones may age employed by the Opera. Plus, some of the men were quite attractive. If I had been bolder, perhaps I would have participated in the game as well. 

One ballerina in particular, Darianna Élise, was extremely melodramatic. She was also my best and closest friend. She and I shared marvelous adventures, not only in the Opera house, but in the city as well. One Sunday each month, we were permitted to go out into Paris. Darianna and I would usually go shopping in the morning, and then spend the afternoon strolling though the park as she kept a watchful eye for handsome gentlemen. 

While I took pleasure in this game, I was not as daring as she. On a few occasions, she would even go and speak to these men, while I stood with a watchful eye, safely behind a tree or bush. 

Back at the Opera, there was one particular gentleman who more then one ballerina would spend hours daydreaming over. Gautier was a ladies man, and quite handsome at that. He flirted freely with most women, and had even come on to me once or twice. Darianna was absolutely obsessed with him, and she soon found that screeching around about the Phantom was the best was to draw Gautier's attention. I truly doubted if she had ever laid eyes on the Opera Ghost, for if she had I was sure she would have done more then shriek. 

Tonight was opening night of the Opera Populaire's, _The Marriage of Figaro._ I had been looking forward to is ever since I had arrived and found out we would be putting it on. I found myself backstage on that warm spring evening. I stood just off stage left, gazing out upon the cast who were frozen in their starting positions, waiting for the curtain to rise. At precisely eight o'clock, it did so and beautiful music began to fill my ears. 

It went well until halfway though the first act when Marguerite, the leading soprano in the Opera, came charging over to where I stood with Madam Alda. 

"That stupid drunk Edgardo," She huffed at us, "Has knocked over a candle onto MY hand fan, and has not only spilt wax upon it, but also scorched it!" 

She rudely began to wave it in our faces, showing us the marks that could have easily been observed in a much calmer manner. Madam Alda, however, gave her a warm, calming smile as she took the fan from her hand. 

"Shhh, Marguerite," She spoke softly, "We don't want to interrupt the scene. I shall send Eveie here down to the props room to pick out a new one for you." 

"Humph," snorted the snobby woman, "Fine. But she better hurry... I will NOT miss my cue." 

"She is quite capable, Mademoiselle," Madam Alda replied in the same calm voice, redirecting her gaze to me, "My dear, will you run down to the props room and pick out a new fan for the Mademoiselle?" 

"Yes," I responded in as pleasant a tone as I could muster, taking the charred fan form her fingers, "I shall not be more then five minutes." 

I departed quickly, but not fast enough to miss one last _Humph _from Marguerite. That woman irritated me. She wasn't even a woman! She couldn't be more than six years my senior, yet she still treated me like the mud stuck in the cracks of her boots. I could understand why Madam Alda put up with her winning and complaining. It was ridiculous! And, worst of all, the ballerinas who had been here for a few years could sill remember when Marguerite had first arrived. They spoke of how she had started off a chorus girl and had been most friendly. Yet, after the whole Christine Daae incident, the old leading soprano Carlotta had retired and Marguerite had been cast in her place. They said it had gone to her head in no more then a day. 

I let out a_ humph _of my own at this thought. It never made sense to me... why people became conceded. It bothered me more then almost anything. Just because you get blessed with a better voice then someone doesn't mean you should become arrogant about it! I continued these thoughts as I walked down the long, winding hall. I was so wrapped up in them that I didn't notice two figures in the dark shadows ahead of me. 

When I finally saw them, I was but five feet away. The sight before my eyes took the breath from my lungs. A large man dressed in a black cape, whose back was towards me, had another man pinned up against the wall. The man in the cape had his large hand grasped around the other mans neck. The poor man who was pinned up against the wall, was pawing helplessly at the bigger man's hand. Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK and the pinned man became limp as death consumed him. 

I let out a gasp of horror, clapping my hand over my own mouth an instant later. It was too late. The big man whirled around, his eyes finding mine in a split-second. I immediately noticed a white mask covering the left side of his face, and if it were possible, my eyes grew even wider. It was him:_ The Phantom of the Opera._

Not hesitating a second more, I dropped the silly fan and turned to run as fast as I could. It was in vain however, for I could hear his heavily footsteps closing the gap between us. I suddenly felt a strong arm wrap around my waist, shoving me against the cold wall. A large hand clasped around my neck, squeezing just hard enough to make breathing difficult. A large masculine body suddenly pushed me further into the wall, erasing any hope of my escape. 

"_So_, you're a little spy are you?" He snarled into my ear. 

"N-no," I gasped, as tears began to burn at the back of my eyes. 

"Felt like meddling in the Phantom's business? Well my dear, I'm afraid there is a price to pay for that!" 

"yes..." I faintly replied. 

He tightened his grip around my throat as the tears, which had been welling up, began to flow freely. My own small hands moved to where his large one grasped my throat. Just like I had seen the other man doing before, I tugged and pushed, trying to remove the Phantom's hand. It wouldn't budge, and I finally gave in to the fact that he was much stronger than I. I heard him begin to laugh... a cold, hard, cruel laugh sending shivers down my spine. 

"A-Are you g-going to kill me?" I whispered. 

"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" He said in the same growling tone, yet I noticed his hand loosen its powerful hold as my tears finally reached his wrist. He began to questioned me further, "What are you doing down here?" 

"Marguerite's fan was destroyed... I came to find her another one," I whimpered into his broad shoulder, which was helping to keep me secure against the wall. 

"Hmm... I see," He said in a softer, yet still sardonic tone. Suddenly, he released his hand and stepped back half a foot, allowing me to collapse on the floor, gasping for air. My hands came quickly to my neck, which I slowly began to massage, trying to ease the pain. He stood towering over me as I recovered, allowing me to stand up a minute later but without any help on his part. I looked at him, making eye contact and giving him the pleasure of my frightened face. Then I turned and ran. This time however, he did not follow me. 

**Please review and let me know what you think :o) **


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